


Perambulations of Regret

by upquarkAO3



Series: Post S3 Finale [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Figuring stuff is difficult, Gen, Usually involves a lotta circular thinking before it's good thinking ;-), “They’re Back; Aren’t They” Fic Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 16:32:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16122443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/upquarkAO3/pseuds/upquarkAO3
Summary: When you're confronted with the improbable, is there any way out that *doesn't* harbor some regret? Detective Chloe Decker is on the case, stubborn daughter and all. And her partner Lucifer Friggin' Morningstar is right behind with his own issues; a sulky demon among them.





	Perambulations of Regret

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Subsequent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Subsequent/gifts).



> For Subsequent! This was such a fun, thought-provoking prompt: sincere apologies for delay - Lyfe Is Dumb (so nice to have consistency, lol)

~ * ~

Chloe Jane Decker had always been, and still was, many things. ‘Confused and confounded’ currently topped the roster, but…

She sighed, head cradled in her hands to shut out the world she had been convinced she’d understood. She was crumpled down between cars in the station lot, rear end planted on a concrete parking divider. It was _probably_ gross and _definitely_ uncomfortable but at the moment she barely noticed.

Chloe was thinking. Practically to the point of aneurysm.

She had **thought** that ‘nobody’s fool’ was tops on that list of characteristics too, but…

…after the Palmetto debacle _(Yeah, sure she and Dan had been having problems, but to actually MISS the fact she’d been married to a dirty cop? She’d always back then – and now too sometimes, truth be told - thought she was juuuussst a little smarter than he was. Huh. Life had certainly dumped cold water on that perspective. Because despite his cocky sloppiness he’d been successful in hiding that salient fact from her for a long-ass time. And for many reasons that HAD made her feel pretty foolish – still did on bad days. Her behavior whilst falling off the pinnacle of realization in her mother’s living room hadn’t been her most shining moment, but that right hook broke away from her as fast as the yell of, “It’s true! It was_ **_all_ ** _true!” did)._

Dammit.

Focus, woman. The here and now seemed complicated enough without dredging up every pitfall the past had to offer. Shaking her head slightly, Chloe squeezed her brain a little bit to make it behave. Reviewing again what she’d hollered at Dan before letting her fist fly.

She’d just said the very same thing to Lucifer _(‘Lucifer’ – what’s in a name: sweet jebuzz, wtf),_ although in a much different tone.

And felt just as stupid, even though she’d hadn’t punched **him**.

Didn’t even want to. For once. Which might be indicative of more things than she could coherently consider at the moment.

And not because she thought she might burst into flames, get turned to a pillar of salt or wind up as damned as he’d been… _as he’d_ **_looked_ ** _– oh god…_

But because despite it all _(and it was a LOT of ALL for cryin’ out loud)_ turns out Lucifer had in fact, never lied to her.

Like he’d SAID. Repeatedly.

Unlike some people.

And to be honest, regardless of what other vertigo might unbalance her rapid transit up this learning curve was that key detail. He HAD never lied to her, never. No matter how scalding that knowledge was, it still eased the cagey part of her heart that had been wounded by Dan’s past actions, some of Lucifer’s own as well, and yes, those of Marcus’, too. And even though most sane people would give her a pass for not buying his Devil-schtick from the jump, part of Chloe still felt badly that she hadn’t bothered to believe. To **really** listen. Not even a little bit. She just hadn’t seen the point until she literally did.

Regardless of scale, how many other people plucked up their courage, asked to be seen and never were – even by those they were close to? How many never tried at all?

Too many, probably.

Great; so now she not only felt badly because of Lucifer, but also maybe – despite her best efforts to the contrary – allowing herself to become jaded enough to miss other cueing, minor and otherwise. Some lousy detective habits right there. Ugh, Chloe just wanted to HELP – she worked so HARD at it! Why was that such a difficult thing to do well?

She sighed, scuffing a toe through the gravel, broken glass and stale cigarette butts that formed an eddy of waste around her feet. Man, her life had gotten weird. And was probably going to become even weirder sooner rather than later.

But STILL.

Chloe massaged her temples and growled under her breath. It had been a long afternoon already and the ‘incomplete nature’ of her debriefing had strained the leash on this migraine struggling to free itself. Despite what she’d seen - and she knew she’d seen it _(oh god; that face -_ _his face_ _)_ and she KNEW she knew - Lucifer had recovered before anyone else saw him like… **that**. So, her part in all of the departmental post-event logistics had been truncated, considering her predominating unconsciousness factor and all.

But she’d seen. REALLY seen. How much more **was** there to see?

Christ (Um, oops? Definitely a consideration for another time. Twelfth of never was lookin’ good, tbh). Anyway, she couldn’t even begin to think of more. Not yet, not while she was still…well. “Acclimating’ was a rather ambitious word, but at least it pointed her in the right direction.

But…

_…_ _what_ _she had seen…?_

For a split second after the initial shock, choking on those crumbs of words parching her voice, Chloe had half-convinced herself to stay under the rock she’d apparently been burrowing under for years _(nobody’s fool, indeed)._

But one look from those agonized eyes, once more the warm brown she’d always known instead of the ebony and scarlet that shot deep _(just as she’d shot him just as he’d taken hits for her repetitively oh god)_ into the soul she’d never acknowledged and she knew . She might not understand everything yet – but she **knew**. And just that singular fact was enough. She was done hiding from whatever her new perception of reality would bring.

Temporarily running away, however? That was a different matter entirely. Trixie needed picking up as their current babysitter had flaked out and Dan’s team would be caught up in this fallout for a while yet. The distraction would be good for him, reeling still over Charlotte’s loss as he was.

Just like caring properly for her child would be a welcome change of pace for her. Which, Chloe winced as she glanced at the time, would NOT be an easy task considering LA traffic at rush hour.

_‘chop chop now, my dear Detective…’_

Nope. No sirree. Not ready for that inconveniently ever-present voice in her head to crop up. Not just yet.

Chloe stood so quickly her headache became a headrush, took a breath and brushed her backside off. She smiled a little, thinking of the time she’d played grab-ass with Lucifer **and** the fact that her first unprompted thought of him was fun and playful instead of tragic and fearsome wasn’t lost on her. The ride over to Trixie’s after school program was mostly quieter inside her head for which she was infinitely thankful.

Compartmentalization had always been one of the sharpest tools in her skill set, and she whetted it on the grindstone of patience now.

Patience with herself, for once.

~ * ~

Trixie was uncharacteristically quiet most of the way home, and Chloe was a little annoyed with herself that it had taken her awhile to notice. She might be shuddering under the weight of shifting paradigms worse than Atlas ever had, but this? Parenting she could do; she was a good mom. Frustrating as Penny was sometimes, Chloe knew she had had a good mom of her own to learn from – her dad, too.

She flinched a little at the thought. **Lucifer** certainly hadn’t seemed to be so lucky in either the mom or dad department. Anyway. Task at hand, and all that.

Chloe tried softballing some questions at her daughter, but the answers were mostly monosyllabic or fluent grunt. She grimaced internally: no matter what else was going on she sure hoped this wasn’t a harbinger of tween communication-style onset. It wasn’t until they were walking up to their apartment that Chloe said, “Look. Sometimes it’s the things we really don’t want to discuss that most need it.”

Wasn’t that the truth. Pot, meet kettle.

Ugh. This DAY already. Geez.

Trixie let out a sigh beyond her years as she stood and waited for her mother to finish unlocking the door. “Whatever; I **know** , okay? It’s just something…weird. And that makes it hard to understand, much less talk about it with anyone, all right?”

Boy did Chloe ever get that concept.

“Okay. But I’m here for you when you’re ready, for anything - you do know that?”

“ _Yes,_ _I know_ , Mom. You keep telling me.” A little smile warmed the corners of her daughter’s mouth. “But thanks.” It made Chloe feel good to know at least ONE thing was going sorta smoothly. For now.

She should’ve known better, of course.

It wasn’t much later when Trixe came out to the kitchen, silently coming in beside her to chop vegetables in tandem.

“I could say the same to you too, you know,” was the first volley.

“What do you mean, Monkey?” Oops. Chloe watched Trixie wrinkle her nose. “Sorry. I forgot. Old habits die hard sometimes.” The discussion they’d had only a short while back included _‘I’m getting too old for silly nicknames and stuff, Mom. It’s embarrassing.’_ It felt like only yesterday she’d said the same thing at the same age to her own mother, although that hadn’t stopped her from being called “Pumpkin” every time she turned around.

Time was passing by so quickly, it seemed. Too quickly.

“It’s okay. You sound like you had a hard day…I mean, I know your job IS hard, Dad’s too, but…” Trixie peered up at her, and Chloe swore that she’d make a GREAT interrogator someday with that piercing glare, “I mean today especially. You look frazzled out for real.”

Chloe chuckled. “I kinda feel that way, to be honest. You’re right; today was a bit of a doozy.”

“So…”

“So what?” Chloe stuck her tongue out and blew her daughter a raspberry, feeling blissful to be able to have this small oasis in her kitchen within the current maelstrom.

“Eww gross, Mom – smells like you had another ‘everything’ bagel out of the vending machine again. **_So_ ** nasty.” Trixie laughed, bumping their hips together. “I meant you can talk to me, too. No details and nothin’ classified I know, but…I’m not some little kid anymore. I can deal.”

“Okay.” Chloe wasn’t quite certain she agreed completely, but…oh, wait – _there’s_ a thought. “ **Okay**.”

Trixie side-eyed her (and Chloe really wished she wouldn’t do that while mincing onions – enough blood already today). “Wow, you ARE getting old. You’re repeating yourself.”

Oh look, she was raising a smartass. Chloe loved it. Not like she’d TELL her daughter, of course. There was already an abundance of confidence going on there. It reminded her of someone else, too.

She spoke quickly in order to pull herself back from the edge of that rabbit hole.

“No, I mean…maybe I can talk ‘around’ this to you. And you could do the same. With whatever’s gonna give you forehead wrinkles before your time.” Chloe put her knife down to press a thumb onto the pinch between her daughter’s brows. The same one that had been there all too often of late.

Trixie made a Shar-Pei face at her and they both laughed. “No way. Nana said she’d hook me up with her Botox person if I ever needed it. And I don’t think I do yet, though Caylen and Blaise said they were asking for nose-jobs for birthday presents and Domenic wants… **_oh fine, whatever_ **.” Trixie cut herself off mid-sentence at the narrowing of her mother’s eyes. Because of her nana’s job and her mom’s own early Hollywood experiences, they’d had the Talk About Physical Appearance And Self-Esteem more times already than she’d ever wanted. She certainly didn’t want to get her mom on a roll now; she was relentless sometimes.

So…quick switch of subject. “So, you mean you want me to say what’s bothering me _without saying_ , like…and you do the same?”

Chloe’s “Uh-huh.” was a little hard to hear over the broth she was pouring into the vegetable pot for their soup, but Trixie got it. She pulled up a chair to their counter and started slicing into a loaf of crusty bread to go with their dinner. “Okay, who goes first?”

“You pick.”

“You can, toucan.” Trixie teased, intending to use her mother’s verbal maneuvering as a template for what – as well as how much – she wanted to reveal about her own problem. It was a really tricky one; and she’d been torn for days between asking for help and trying to figure things out for herself. But, it was HARD because she simply didn’t UNDERSTAND what happened. Just that it hurt. Badly.

Bread now cut and wrapped in a cloth towel, she passed it off to her mom to put in the oven to warm. She settled herself in on a stool at their counter and nodded ‘yes’ when her mother held up the pitcher of iced tea from their fridge. She took notice when a glass of wine got poured instead of a second tea, but she kept her expression neutral. If this parent in particular was really going to start treating her like she was more mature, she’d have to actually do it. Usually Chloe didn’t drink anything until Trixie was asleep, so whatever was bothering her was probably a big deal. Oooh - she was going to be trusted with something important.

This felt **good**.

Trixie nodded one more time when Chloe held up the bowl of grapes from the counter and moved over slightly so her mom could join her. She took a sip of her tea – eww, it needed more SUGAR: how could ANYONE drink it unsweetened - then popped a grape in her mouth, asking _‘Well?’_ silently with raised eyebrows.

Chloe chuckled again. “Keep that up. You’ll make a great interrogator. Grandad would be proud.”

Trixie smiled, but kept quiet.

“All right. Here goes.” Chloe took a quick sip herself and then tried to think about what, and what NOT to say. Her daughter adored Lucifer and there was no way she was letting the proverbial cat out of the bag until she had a better reckoning of everything herself. But, this was her idea, so…

“Today I learned something challenging about someone I thought I knew really well, and it’s sort of throwing me for a loop.”

“Mr. Pierce?”

Chloe blanched. Well him too, she supposed, but. Nope. Not gonna knock on that particular door yet.

“Not exactly.”

“Well, ‘challenging’ can mean lots of stuff. Depending, I guess…on ‘lots of stuff’. So, was it something good or something bad? Or both?”

Chloe looked closer at her daughter. She really was **so** very bright…special care would be needed with this conversation.

“ _Maybe_ both? Probably? But, it’s complicated.”

“Yeah, mine too.” Trixie’s mouth got small and tight as Chloe watched the wheels turning behind those brown eyes. Her daughter did look older with that expression on her sweet face.

Ignoring the sudden pang to her heart, Chloe continued. “I feel like what I learned is something I should have been able to figure out on my own, even though it’s pretty bizarre. And that makes me feel…”

“A little stupid? For reasons you can’t understand all the way yet?”

“Yeah.” Chloe paused again. Shit, maybe her insightful kid had a career in psychology ahead of her instead. Or **theology** . Gee whiz, Lucifer could be a BIG help there. She derailed that train of thought before she burst into hysterical giggles. Trixie might be trying to stretch her emotional wings now but… _(wings! holy…buddhacow?). Ugh, STOP!)._ Chloe raised her wine once more, this time taking a gulp instead of a sip.

“Whoa, easy; don’t get too crazy there, Mom. I mean, that’s a whole third of a glass we both know you’re gonna to make last all evening.”

They both snorted and tension eased. Chloe muttered, _‘smartass’_ juuuust loud enough for Trixie to hear and laughed again when her daughter responded with an impish wink.

“All right; enough about me for the moment. What’s going on with you? And hey, not trying to sound all helicopter mom over here, but….this ‘whatever’ has been bothering you for a little bit now, huh?”

“Yeah.” Trixie’s focus turned downcast, watching the ice cubes in her glass tink against each other and the sides as she gently swirled it.

Chloe was pretty sure she knew what – or rather WHO – was on Trixie’s mind, but still. Autonomy and self-disclosure were important in trust-building. So she waited.

She didn’t have to do it for long, either.

“I just don’t GET IT! I didn’t even DO ANYTHING! And she **_still_ ** said…” Trixie cut herself off abruptly, lips pinched and jaw clenched.

“Maze, huh?”

Face still tight, Trixie nodded.

“Yeah, she can be a prickly pickle sometimes. You should see all the people she scares at work.”

“But she was never like that with me, Mom. Never me. So, why now?” Trixie thumped down her glass and looked up at Chloe. For all her daughter’s effort in growing up and even with the maturity she’d been showing throughout this conversation…the hurt in those big brown eyes was the simple and profound pain of a child faultlessly wronged.

Lucifer’s eyes had looked exactly the same just after.

‘How **many** times had it been that way for him? For how long?’ she wondered. Then stopped herself once again. At this moment, the only person Chloe knew she might help was right in front of her. And as she ever had, she dealt with the near and the now and staved off the rest as best she could.

So she began.

Cupping her daughter’s cheek in her hand she spoke gently but firmly. “People _(…or_ _whatever_ _– ugh just_ _STOP_ _…)_ can be unkind sometimes. Even cruel. Even those we love. That’s unfortunate. But…nothing and no-one is perfect. And as she is responsible for her actions, so you are for yours. Someone you care about hurt you when you didn’t deserve it, and you don’t know why. And there is only one person who can answer that question should you choose to ask. You don’t have to. It probably won’t be an easy conversation for either of you. But the ball’s in your court, baby. Rather than stewing and getting nowhere but more upset, make your choice to ask or dismiss, own it and be done.”

Trixie’s brow puckered further, as if the words she was hearing were challenging for reasons other than the obvious.

“What else, babe?”

The voice answering her was small and sad. “It’s not just her, Mom. Not exactly, I mean. Even if she wants to explain or apologize…I just don’t know if…”. She stopped herself to blow out a quick breath and bite her lip.

Chloe pulled her hand from her daughter’s face to rest it on her back. It was becoming really difficult for her not to ‘step in and do the concerned parent thing’, and scaffold some words for Trixie to climb out on, but she didn’t. Just waited silently, rubbing soft circles over those small shoulders. Articulating difficulty was a useful skill and like any child, Trixie needed as much practice with it as she could get. Too many people never learned and Chloe wound up dealing with the aftermath all too often at work.

More than a few minutes passed, but her patience paid off. Trixie clenched her fists on the countertop, and when she spoke her tone was as hard as the words were. “I have a hard time forgiving, all right? Even harder forgetting. Because even if we both want us to get over it – she was still **really** mean for no good reason. Nothing she could say now changes that.”

“No, you’re right. But things aren’t often a one-and-done, honey. No matter why it happened, that truth is a finite event, not a protocol for what comes after – not if you don’t want it to be. You can’t _bend_ truth, but you can decide how you want to work with it. We aren’t just the stuff that happens to us. We become what we decide to **do** about what happens, okay? It’s hard; of course it is. But possible. When all is said and done, the only thing we can really control is ourselves.”

Trixie took a deep, shuddering breath and blinked back the tears that had started to stand in her eyes. “Okay,” she said softly. And after another breath, more firmly. “Okay. Here Mom; look.” She pulled back to open her phone and Chloe almost giggled when she saw the slew of unanswered texts from an ID labeled W!ckdKewl.

“Well, Maze certainly seems as if she’s been trying to get your attention.”

“I guess.”

“Maybe she’s got something to say you oughtta hear?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?”

Trixie giggled a little, and the sound warmed her mother’s heart. “No, I know. I also know I’ve got some things to say to her, too.”

“That’s my girl.” Chloe leaned over to give the top of Trixie’s head a quick kiss before sliding off her stool to get bowls from their cupboard.

The voice Chloe heard behind her as she ladled out the soup was back to a familiar chirp. “Know what, Mom?”

“No, what?”

“Maybe you should take your own advice. About **your** thing.”

Maybe she should.

But not right this minute.

Chloe brought the full bowls over to their spot on the counter and then turned to get the bread out of the oven. Everything smelled so good, and she fully intended to enjoy something as simultaneously simple and earth-shattering as sharing a meal made with someone she loved. “Stop getting so big and old and smart on me so fast. Freaks me out, you little weasel.”

For once Trixie allowed the moniker without groaning and with a quick chuckle between them, the Decker women settled in for some easy conversation after difficult. And both of them were (almost) successful at putting their out-of-sight concerns out of their minds.

Well, _almost_.

No-one’s perfect.

**_No one._ **

~ * ~

Currently, the main whirligigs in their conundrums were far closer than either of the Deckers might have thought. At least physically. Lucifer and Maze were pacing in the back parking alley of the apartment complex, his little black coupe in silent détente between them and…well whatever would come next.

“So, what are you going to do - that you _can_ , I mean. A lot of this is up to her.”

“Well honestly when hasn’t that been the case, Mazie? Her choice. Choice **_s_ ** _,_ rather. Honestly, despite Linda’s good efforts I was just too foolish to see it earlier.”

“See what, exactly?”

Lucifer looked askance at his demon, but not with malice. He knew what she was doing as well as she did.

“Are you asking me because you don’t know or trying to see if I do?”

She laughed, and it was a kind one. Unusual.

“Both, perhaps. I’ve got bridges to repair myself, you know. Go ahead. Awe me with your accumulated insight.”

“Indeed.” They were quiet together for a moment before Lucifer continued wryly. “Though despite it all, I fear your path might be more arduous than my own. The sprite is…not exactly even as her mother in temperament. I blame her father’s contribution – the douche factor, as it were. At least it’s diluted. Or de **lude** d, as Daniel so often is.” He grinned like a sideshow hawker at his own wit, pleased with the distraction.

Maze however, sighed and sank down to sit on the curb in front of the car. It was almost as if the lack of her normal ire decalcified her demonic bones; and her tone as well. She spoke softly, musingly almost. “Don’t I know it. Just a big part of why…” her voice trailed off as her fists clenched over her knees.

Lucifer leaned back on the coupe’s hood and considered his demon from this new perspective. He could be soft sometimes, too. He’d learned. And knew he needed to practice that skill set more often, especially considering another conversation he’d be having soon (he hoped). “It’s part of why you first liked the child you were going to say. Isn’t it? Her verve. **_Balls_ ** , even. Underage and based in psyche rather than skin though they may be.”

Now they both snickered. After all, they hadn’t lasted this long taking things too seriously. Not all the time.

“Certainly unusual for any human - a juvenile especially, when not comorbid with fetid overindulgence. Just…nonchalant determination to have her way and do what she could with what she had to get it, right? And you **like** that about her, **don’t** you?” He did as well, being honest. A rather admirable trait in the savvy little minx.

Maze nodded, still quiet. Her silence gave Lucifer time to hear his own words differently. Hmmm. Things needing done still so and time was not working in his favor here. He knew that, too.

He spun to face Maze again, dropping a palm to clap briskly on her shoulder. She startled and curled her lip in a snarl before he tossed an unexpected gem her way, “Well, you needed to address the **_prickly_ ** ,” he actually laughed at his choice of word, the ass, “…Linda issue and managed that with some uncommon grace. And your trouble with the pixie Beatrice is simpler, yes? No divine dicks involved here. No complex feelings to muddy the waters. You were just a terrible arse to someone undeserving and need to make an acceptable apology. After that, you hope for the best because it’s out of your control. Simple enough, right?”

Maze winced. It kind of was, put like that.

He continued almost cheerily. “You’re a peerless denizen of Hell itself, Mazie darling! Forged in fire with brimstone for blood. Surely eating tepid crow before a fledgling human is nothing for you to fear. Not if it’s important enough. Is it?”

He looked at her closely, dark eyes gleaming. Mazikeen well knew his sway could not affect her, but the frank appraisal did. The Devil’s mutual understanding of distances they both had to travel was as plain as the gaze on his face. She sat up straighter and squared her shoulders.

“I fear nothing in this mortal realm. Nor any other, even though I probably should.” They both snickered again until she continued speaking more solemnly, “And yes, the mending **is** important enough.” She nodded once, sharply. Assuring herself. Lucifer was successful in hiding his smile; he was proud of her growth arc nearly as much as his own, drunken butterfly progress for both of them aside.

Not that he’d tell her, of course.

It was his turn to be startled from his thoughts when he felt dusky fingers reach up to brush his own. “What about you? Singular and plural ‘you’, that is?” she asked, clasping their hands together.

He was uncharacteristically shocked into silence for a moment. By the question, and yes, the unexpected charm of the little gesture as well. But he recovered quickly, giving her hand a squeeze in return before he let go to brush a few latent remnants of Cain’s destruction from his lapels. Those LAPD philistines hadn’t even let him clean up properly before picking his brain about the day’s events! Devil or otherwise, he’d finally used a few of his parlor tricks to hurry the process along – especially after he’d seen Chloe dismissed without having a chance to speak with her. Ugh. All around, a situation greater than the sum of its parts. Exhausting, really. But, nothing to do **but** do, so….

“I’ve rather a weighted conversation waiting myself, I suppose. Either a very long one…or quite short. Can’t really see middle ground for this bit of a tangle.” He sighed, then cocked his chin saucily. After all, it would do no good going in with his fictitiously attributed tail between his legs. His Detective wouldn’t recognize that and he needed to be as familiar as possible to her considering….

Well considering **everything** , obviously.

“You’ve tried talking to her before – you’ve never lied about…” Maze swirled her hands in front of him, indicating his general Luciferness.

“No,” he answered, voice low. “No, I have not outright _lied_ as such. But…my crystal ball of truth can be rather clouded on occasion.” He paused, brow furrowed.

“So what will be different now? Will you let her see again? Linda recovered well enough and you’ve shown at least your real eyes since, haven’t you?”

“Honestly, I never thought she WOULD see…that. Couldn’t when I tried some time back and now the wing bit compounds the issue – the ‘heads and tails’ of the problem as it were. As to Linda, yes I have. At her request, mind. But, I don’t know that the Detective – _Chloe_ – will need more. Or a repeat. Not in that way, anyhow. It wasn’t just **my proverbial pedigree** she was blocking, Maze. It was her own belief, or lack thereof – which knowing how her mind works could very well be just as - if not more problematic for her to suss. Not that I made it difficult for her to continue that illusory figment. I didn’t want to…” Lucifer trailed off and Maze didn’t make him say aloud the words they both could hear in his silence: he didn’t want to risk losing Chloe. Not completely.

Before he eventually would. Her being a mere mortal and all.

Or so he thought. He _had_ thought.

…did he still?

Lucifer gave himself a brisk shake and refocused. Those stones were needing turned another day. The one currently in hand was heavy enough.

He took a deep breath and continued. “This time I will be louder than the reality of my words. I’ll take them from concept to consecration in such a way that she can allow herself acceptance, not simple acknowledgement. Walk the talk for both of us, perhaps. Show that I’ve learned the lessons of scars – my own, and ones I’ve unwittingly inflicted to her mind. And her heart, perhaps. My own as well, vestigial though it might have been when this all began.” He paused and rubbed at his sternum thoughtfully, as if this hurt gave him more pain than the gunshots.

Any of the gunshots.

Or punches.

Or knives.

Or off-label electricity.

Or perhaps even the Fall itself, considering his part in all of this.

“There has already been so **much** pain, after all. Growing pains, perhaps. But still enough. More than, really. At least at present.”

Perhaps at last there has been, Maze thought.

“Our history regarding the matter **_of me_ ** and the current unintentional unveiling makes what’s next…difficult at best. But I think I have - and she has, most certainly – proved deserving of some light. These waning shadows of obfuscation will be found. I will hunt them down.” He took one more deep breath and finished with, “Or at the very least I will offer illumination as I was created to do, though not expressly in this manner… and then mind her choice. Truly so. As much as I am capable of at present, any road.”

Finally learning to accept the current limitations of himself and others with grace as never before. Well then. As he had, Maze hid her pleased smile at her Devil’s high-heeled-scamper-over-broken-stones progress.

She broke the moment by slapping him sharply on his dusty rump. When he squeaked (a noise she always found hilarious) she sassed over the objection hurtling her way by exclaiming, “Well, go get ‘em, tiger!!”

‘So crass, honestly.’ His grumble was almost hidden in his smile, even as he did rub his backside. Demonic spankings were no joke and Maze was a pro. He couldn’t resist adding some salt of his own. “Alas, the head forgets what the hind remembers.”

“That sounds like the stupidest fortune cookie EVER. For **that** , you deserve a real punishment, Lucifer.” She grinned, wickedly sharp canine teeth twinkling in a feral smile. And cocked her hand back to deliver, what would be he was sure, some serious comeuppance. Regrettably, Lucifer had neither the time nor inclination to indulge. Besides, he was fairly certain punishment of some kind awaited him _(them)_ literally just around the corner.

Raising a baleful eyebrow towards any other stalling mischief his demon might have in mind, he reached out to Maze, helped her rise and tucked her arm within the crook of his own.

“Onwards and upwards then darling, and we shall see what we shall see.”

“ _Rather_ ,” she sassed, making the mockery of his accent obvious. When he pursed his lip and lofted a brow her way she simply smiled sweetly, gave his ribs a sharp pinch and then settled to take one deep breath.

He took the next in tandem with her. After all they were quite the pair, through everything that had been and everything to come. Then asked gently, “Ready then?”

She nodded, and they shared a wary smile before walking up the steps to try and find their way through to their most favorite humans.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Seinabo Sey: Hard Times
> 
> (the song and vocals are amazing; pls listen!)
> 
> https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fm.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DEgdOs5-3VWQ&h=AT3XclIrmZLVasEndAr-71ulFKZHytGm543UK55S7Skqab6IiD2JlPSiLr12Ak0AXhzl_2oOWnrg38eb4G6e7E75So5zNL-UNF4qmowflm_Mp4rgh0KeUJr7UMZLDRMACQFqyw


End file.
